It's a Beautiful Day In the Neighborhood
by Bananas102
Summary: Sam suddenly finds himself in London, plauged by Lucifer and the crime-solving flatmates who have no idea what they're getting themselves into."
1. Chapter 1

Sam squeezed his eyes shut.

"You can't shut me out, Sammy. That doesn't work anymore," Lucifer crooned.

Sam had a really bad headache. Oh, god. Where was he?

"You don't remember? Sammy...you're in London." The Devil grinned happily at Sam's expression.

What? How the hell did he get in London?

"You got on a plane and ya flew here. Keep up."

It was cold and it was raining. He was shivering. Lucifer kept yelling at him and he was so tired.

Where was Dean? Why was he in London? He needed to get home.

"Hey. Hello?" Sam turned around. The was a man looking at him cautiously.

"Are you okay?" Sam almost wanted to laugh.

He let out a strangled whimper and passed out into the mud.

* * *

"God dammit, Bobby! I can't find him anywhere!"

"I know that Dean, but the spell doesn't show up at all anywhere in the country!"

Dean tried not to grip the phone to tight in the fear he might snap it.

"He out of the country, then?"

"I don't know, I'll have to try it," Bobby said curtly.

"Call me with the results." Dean hung up.

He'd been out to grab food, so simple. But Sam had vanished when he got back.

The car had still been there, undisturbed, and everything was in place. Not even a sweater was taken with. Sam was just gone.

And of course, Dean had flipped.

Dean had the impulse to kick his car but he refused to.

He'd rather kick Satan, if that was an option.

* * *

John had no idea who this man was. After he had passed out John had made the rash decision of bringing him home to the flat.

The man was currently passed out of the couch.

Sherlock eyed him cautiously. "Who is he?"

But he was bustling around and looking at crime photos so it seemed like he had absolutely no interest in the question.

"No idea," John told him.

"Hmm."

John crossed his arms. "Could you tell me."

Sherlock squinted at one of his photos. "Probably."

John fought the impulse to roll his eyes. "Are you going to?"

"Busy."

"Of course you are," John mumbled.

The man let out a whimper. It was completely pain-riddled and the sound of it even caused Sherlock to briefly glance away from his case.

The man's face twitched and a single tear came from his right eye. "Bad dream," Sherlock said.

Suddenly the man cried out.

John flinched. That's some bad dream.

Then the man bolted upright panting and shaking looking around, bewildered.

"Hey, you're alright. You're at 221B Baker Street." John had no idea what else to tell him.

The man looked like he was going to cry in relief at the news.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" John asked.

The man looks confused. "I-I don't k-know."

"What's your name?"

"Sam."

"Okay, Sam. Do you have anyone to call?"

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean."

John frowned slightly. Sam tore through his pockets to pull out a scratched cell phone. He was about to dial when he realized it wasn't an international phone.

"D-Do you have a phone I c-could use?"

This Sam person was obviously American, and looked quite young.

Sherlock didn't move from his position over the microscope. John scowled and rolled his eyes. "Sherlock, I know you have an international phone."

"And?"

"Where is it?"

Sherlock squinted at whatever was in the microscope and airly replied, "In my pocket."

Both men waited for him to retrieve it, but after a moment, John knew better and simply dug it out of Sherlock's pocket himself.

He handed it to Sam who dialed a number.

* * *

"Sam? Where the hell are you?! Are you okay?"

There was a pause and some scuffling on the other end. Dean forced himself not to panic.

"D-Dean, I-I don't know how I g-got here." Sam sounded so small right then.

"Hey. It's going to be ok. Do you know where you are?"

"Y-Yeah; uh..22..1..Baker Street..in London, I think."

Dean blanched. "What the hell are you doing in London? How are you calling me?"

"Lucifer got me here somehow. I-I don't remember. This guy and his roommate took me in and let me use their international phone."

Dean exhaled. "Okay. I'm my way, alright?"

After a few second of silence, "Sam?"

Sam's shaky voice came from the speaker. "D-Dean, something is very w-wrong."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had high-tailed it to London faster than Sam had expected. Then was a knock downstairs and a woman's voice.

"Boys! There's a handsome American boy here to see you!"

Sherlock remained in the kitchen bustling about for his case, which left John and Sam to go downstairs.

Sam gave Dean a smile. Dean remained silent for a moment, then smiled and gave Sam a hug. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. M'fine."

Dean looked at John. "Hey, uh, thanks for taking care of Sammy."

John gave him a polite smile.

"It was no problem. Seeing as it's late, would you like to stay at our flat for the night?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. "Um, we wouldn't want to cause you any trouble.." Sam started.

"Nonsense, it's fine, _Isn't it Sherlock_?" John raised his voice to reach the man upstairs. When there was no response, John rolled his eyes.

"Don't mind him. It's really not a problem."

"Thanks," Dean said.

They went back up to the flat to find Sherlock pinning pictures to the walls. John put his face in his hands. After a minute he raised his head. "Sherlock," he started, sounding exasperated. "What are you doing?"

Sherlock didn't even glance at him, just kept taping up pictures. "Solving a case, John," he said, returning to the kitchen.

John exhaled loudly. "Of course you are," he murmured.

He turned to Sam and Dean. "Make yourself comfortable."

They nodded.

* * *

Dean couldn't sleep, mostly because of the time difference.

He sighed.

He was sitting with his Satan-haunted brother in the guest bedroom of an apartment in London owned by two men, one of which was really weird.

There was a whimper. Dean frowned, then swallowed hard when realized it was coming from Sam.

"Sam?" he whispered.

Nothing. Dean settled back down. He kept cleaning his gun. Not much else to do.

Another whimpered pierced the air.

Dean looked down and kept cleaning.

Sam cried out and Dean's head snapped up.

"M'sorry...please...stop...please..," Sam whimpered.

Dean bit his lip and set the gun down.

"Please, stop! I'm sorry!"

Dean shook Sam. Sam thrashed for a second before his eyes flew up and he bolted upright, panting and shaking.

Dean sat in front of him. "Sammy, you okay?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, m'fine."

Dean stifled a snark comment. He noticed Sam had been crying.

"Sam, when you called me, you said something was wrong. What did you mean?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer, when he flinched and looked to the left.

Dean followed his gaze to see the empty corner of the room.

He looked back at Sam.

Sam's eyes grew huge and he dug his thumb into his cut, not stopping when it dripped blood, not stopping when blood poured onto the sheets.

Dean grabbed some tissues and pressed them to the cut.

Lucifer, who had been giving Sam a pouty face, vanished.

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief, and let Dean mop up the blood.

"Uh, when I called you, Lucifer was...no, is..acting weird."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He tells me something."

"What does he tell you?"

"That he's coming."


	3. Chapter 3

Sam looked out the window, and Dean turning his head to check on him every 15 seconds.

"Dean, I'm fine."

"That's not how you were earlier."

"I'm fine now."

"Sure you are."

Sam inhaled, his irritation getting bigger.

Suddenly there was a voice directly in his ear.

"I'm coming."

Sam flinched and shrunk away. Dean frowned.

"Sam? You okay?"

Sam turned around in his seat, and Lucifer sat in the backseat. No smile this time. No cracking jokes.

"I'm mad at you Sammy," he said.

Sam suppressed a sugar.

"Sam, block it out," Dean warned.

"Wait," Sam said to Dean. Then he turned back to Lucifer. "What do you mean by that?"

Lucifer glared at Sam. "I'm coming. And when I do, I'm coming for you."

And he vanished. Sam let out a ragged breath and he looked around.

"What the hell?" he whispered. By this time, Dean had pulled over.

"Sam, talk to me. What happened?"

"I-I don't-I don't know."

* * *

Dean ran his fingers through his short hair.

"So...he's obviously pissed. He's not normally like that?"

"Not really. He's usually more...annoying, I guess."

"Hmm."

Sam bit the inside of his lip.

"H-He scared me, Dean," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean softened and he sat down across from Sam.

"Don't let him, okay? Don't let him get to you."

Sam swallowed and nodded.

Suddenly the door opened and Sherlock walked in. John came in behind him.

"Sherlock..," John warned, bit it sounded a bit more like a complaint.

"What is it? Sherlock asked, the words obviously uncomfortable in his mouth.

Dean stood up. "What?"

Sherlock gestured at Sam. "His disease; his mental illness; _what is it?"_

Dean looked Sherlock up and down, as if he were sizing him up.

"What makes you think there's anything wrong with my brother?"

No one missed the defensive tone in his voice.

"Dean-," Sam started, just as John said, "Sherlock-"

Both were silenced by looks from the other.

"It's obvious," Sherlock said, and John could see he was about to ramble, and he mentally prepared himself for the worst.

"The way your brother keeps flinching, as if someone was there, screaming in the middle of the night, both suggest some sort of trauma, yet his eyes," Sherlock said, directing his fingers to act what he was saying, "his eyes stray from people and he seems to look behind him, or in corners and doorways, when there is nothing. It suggests some kind of mental illness, such as schitzophrenia, but it does not add up. To anything. It's been bloody bothering me; What is it?"

CRASH!

Both parties forgot the previous argument as several men broke into the flat.

First thing Dean did was pull out a gun.

So did Sherlock.

"You've been keeping a gun on you the entire time?!" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged.

The men, the six of them, all formed a line.

Their eyes turned black.

Sherlock's bright blue eyes squinted and he exhaled. W..What?

Dean on the other hand, just got pissed. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

Sam pulled out the demon knife.

All six turned simutaniously to face Sam. "He wants you."

Sam's eyes widened. Dean gritted his teeth. "Oh no you don't."

Sam tossed the knife into the air and Dean caught it as Sam ducked into the room behind them that held their belongings.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus," Sam started. The demons hissed and the fighting started. Demons launched themselves at them and Sherlock was happy to just shoot them, though that didn't do much good.

John held a wooden baseball bat at the ready and gave any demon that came close a good crack in the head.

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte et sectio."

Dean was dodging punches and dealing them out, with a finale of the demon knife in the gut, and that burn of orange in the demon, that eventually went out.

Which left four demons.

"Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos," Sam finished.

Black smoke streamed from their mouth, and their drawn out screams echoed, and then the bodies fell silent.

John was panting. "What. The _hell_. Was that?"

Dean was breathing a little hard, but he was smiling at their victory. Sam came out of the room, and Dean high-fived him.

"Nice job, Sammy."

Sam smiled briefly, then cleared his throat and gestured to the other two with his head.

John looked at Dean, hands still on the bat. "Care to explain?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Demons?"

"Yeah."

"_Demons?!_"

"Didn't we just cover this?"

"Dean."

"What? They gotta deal with it at some point."

Sam just gave him a look.

Then he flinched. Dean stiffened. "Hi again?"

Sam gritted his teeth and nodded and his skin began to be peeled off.

Sherlock looked over at Sam from where he was sitting. "So, you're mental illness. Does it have anything to with the supernatural?"

Sam nodded.

"Like what?"

"Hell," Sam said quietly, uncomfortable with this topic.

Sherlock sat up a little. "Really. Hell's real?"

"Yes," Dean said darkly.

Sherlock looked back to Sam. "Can you elaborate on that?"

Sam clenched his jaw and ground out, "No, I really can't."

Dean was at Sam's side in a second. "Hey! That's enough Q & A."

Suddenly, all the pain vanished and Sam gasped in a lungful of air.

He frowned in confusion.

"Sammy." Sam flinched and whipped around.

"Sam, what is it?"

Dean paused.

"Is it him again?"

Sam nodded.

Dean swore. "What the hell does that bastard want?"

Lucifer was standing against a wall, looking straight at Sam.

"You know, Sam, pushing me back into my cage and then just. Leaving. As if I would let you walk. Those demons failed. The others won't."

Sam took a step back.

Dean was trying to get Sam's attention, his panic hating the look of fear on Sam's face.

"What is it? What is he saying?"

Lucifer walked toward Sam and he then smiled. But he wasn't happy. Not at all.

He poked a finger into Sam's chest and Sam went flying to crash into a wall.

"Sam!"

* * *

"How the hell could he touch you?!"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

"I mean, what the fuck?!"

"I don't know. Dean, I don't think that it's scars from the Cage anymore. I think it's actually him."

"Actually who?" John asked.

"Lucifer," Dean said casually, with a hint of hate in there.

John sputtered. "As in the Devil?!"

"Dick," Dean muttered.

"You've met him," Sherlock stated.

He faced Sam. "Especially you."

Sam looked at him for a second before nodding.

John put his hands up. "Okay, look, I have _no _idea what's going on!"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

And they told them.

About Sam having blood dripped into his mouth as a baby, the yellow-eyes demon, Ruby, the apocalypse, the possession, the Cage, everything they needed to complete the picture.

"Oh my God," John murmured.

* * *

Sam exhaled.

"More are coming Dean. For me. He's angry I got out; that I put him back. It's endangering all of you."

Dean shook his head. "No. Not happening."

Sam sighed. "You could get killed."

Dean snorted. "And? I'm letting Lucifer's dickbags throw you back in with him! You almost died last time! I think you did for a second!"

Sam swallowed. "I couldn't..live with myself. If you died for me again, Dean."

Dean stopped.

"That wasn't your fault, Sam."

"I know. But I don't want you to make a dumb decision and end up going to hell again."

Dean exhaled. "I brought you back, Sam. I don't regret that."

He barely heard it; "I do."

Dean stopped. Sherlock had already lost interest in the conversation, but John was still listening.

"Sam-"

"No, Dean. If I was still dead, I would never had started the apocalypse, Lucifer would never had gotten free, and you would have never gone to hell."

"That's not your fault."

"Yes. It is." Suddenly, there was a screech and Sam let out a groan.

"Sam?"

But Sam could barely hear him. His ears felt like they were full of cotton, but there was screeching and screaming and pounding. Everything was so _loud. _His head felt like it was on fire.

Dean's voice was muffled. Sam tried getting up, but his limbs were too heavy.

Then for some reason he wasn't in the flat anymore.

* * *

"Sam?!

Sam was gone. He had started going transparent, but now he was full-blown gone.

"Dammit!"

John exhaled sharply. "W-Where did he go?"

"I don't know."

Dean faced John. "International phone."

John frowned , then quickly strode over to the cluttered table and pulled out a little black phone. He tossed it and Dean caught it midair.

He flipped it open and dialed.

"Bobby? It's Dean. Yeah, I found him, but-...Bobby, he's gone! He started going transparent, and now he vanished. A spell. Okay...I know he's not in America! Yes, we're still in London. Bobby, Lucifer has him!"

There was a pause.

"Yes! Please, Bobby." Dean voice broke.

"He's my brother."

Dean let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay. Okay. Thanks, Bobby. I owe you."

Dean hung up and without a word he was flying out the door.

Just like Sherlock, John thought grimly as he followed him with Sherlock on his heels.

"Where are you going?" John shouted after Dean.

Dean turned on his heel. "I'm finding my brother!"

John nodded. "Yeah, well, we're coming with you."

"No, you're really not."

"We want to help."

There was a hiss, and all three of them turned to see more demons.

"You can distract them!" Dean yelled as he jumped in the rental car and drove.

Sherlock and John got into their car and the demons tore out of their bodies, twisting and turning into the air, going after them.


	5. Chapter 5

"SHERLOCK YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US!"

Sherlock paid John no mind and again yanked down on the wheel, jerking the car to the left and momentarily driving on two wheels.

John was white as a sheet.

"Come on, John! Things have finally gotten exciting."

* * *

The address Bobby had given him had gotten him to an abandoned warehouse. Honestly, do they have DEMON WELCOME signs?

He crept to the door and looked inside.

Sam was tied up and out cold on the ground.

A ring of demons was forming near him and one of them carried an awfully familiar set of rings.

Then, Sam twitched. The demons twisted their heads around to sneer at him. Dean breathed in. Now or never.

He set in, chanting Latin and shooting down demons who started crawling at him. Then he was on the ground.

It felt like he had gotten hit with a brick wall.

* * *

Dean awoke with a groan. He opened his eyes and realized he was on the ground across from Sam, who was looking pretty groggy still.

"D'n?"

"Yeah, Sam."

A demon kicked Dean in the ribs and he inhaled sharply. Then he kicked Sam, who let out a pained hiss and curcled inwardly on himself.

Dean glared at the demon.

The demon smiled.

He went and completed the circle.

The one holding the rings tossed them into the center of the circle.

Then they started chanting.

"Dean?"

Dean noted the hint of fear in his voice.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy, it's gonna be okay," he rattled on.

Sam nodded, believing him even though logic told him that this could turn out very very bad.

The door to the Cage opened and the demons stepped back, two heading towards Sam.

"Hey! Don't you touch him!"

They ignored him and picked Sam up, holding him up between them, Sam's bound feet dragging on the ground. Sam looked terrified. "D-Dean?" There was the unmistakable tone of panic.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy," Dean croaked, furiously trying to get free.

Sam looked down into the endless black of the Cage door.

"Sammy, look at me!"

Sam looked at Dean, eyes wide.

"It's going to be okay."

Sam swallowed hard and nodded.

He was pushed in.

"Sam!"

* * *

John and Sherlock had used the demon knife to kill them and release Dean. The rings were still smoking and Dean shuffled over to them. Numb.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said. And he meant it, which for a second, surprised John.

Dean shook his head in denial. "I-I don't accept that," he said, voice breaking.

"Then don't," said a familiar voice.

Dean turned to see Sam.

"Sam?"

Sam frowned. "Not quite, Dean."

Dean froze. "Then who?"

Sam gave Dean a weary smile. "I pulled Sam out. Too late for Sam to avoid torture, but he at least doesn't have to stay there."

Dean nodded. "He has his soul?"

"Yes, I brought it back up with me."

"Who are you?"

"The Father of Lucifer and Micheal."

Dean blanched. "God?!"

"I have many classifications, Dean. But yes, that is one of them."

Dean scoffed. "You rescued my brother. Uh..thanks."

God-in-Sam put a hand up. "You don't have to thank me, Dean. Your brother is a good soul. He doesn't belong there."

Dean nodded. "I know." He laughed darkly. "He doesn't believe it."

God-in-Sam blinked. "His humbleness is part of what makes him a goos soul."

Dean nodded.

God-in-Sam cocked his head and gave Dean a comforting smile. "I assume you want your brother back."

"Yes, please."

Sam glowed in bright light and Dean felt oddly relaxed. then he light faded, leaving Sam, stumbling and panting.

"Sam?"

"...Dean?"

Dean laughed nd pulled Sam into a hug.

After a moment, Sam relaxed and hugged Dean back.

Dean's eyes searched Sam's face. "Are you okay?"

Sam looked at Dean, seemingly in awe. "I-I don't know."

Dean hugged Sam again.

"Well, you're back, and I'm not letting you go."


End file.
